The Bittersweet Tale of Dobby the House-Elf and Master Lucius Malfoy
When I was hired by Master and Mistress Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, I expected just another normal job for me. I expected only the delights of working all day and night to make a lovely house perfectly spotless. All house-elves had that exact job. I didn't know that I would be thrown mercilessly into a world of love, compassion and hate that I had never seen before.
I remember the day I was taken in by the Malfoy family. It was five days after my sixty-ninth birthday. I had been working for Master and Mistress Stewart and Mafalda Hopkirk for fourteen years, ninety-three days, and about sixteen hours. Those were back in the days when I was a normal, sane house elf. The Hopkirk family spent most of their time at work so I usually had the house to myself to clean. My only complaint was that I often finished all of my cleaning early and I had to spend many hours pacing back and forth in front of the front door, waiting earnestly for them to get home and make another mess for me to clean. I slept in a cabinet under the sink in the downstairs bathroom. Many times they offered me an entire closet to turn into my room, but I instantly refused each time because I surely did not want to become anything other than a normal, sane house elf. But my life was turned upside-down when Master and Mistress Hopkirk said goodbye and my new owner, Master Lucius Malfoy, pulled me harshly into the fireplace.
Though at first glance, my owner seemed cold, working for him turned out to be a complete heaven. When I first toured the house, I felt my heart fill with more and more joy at the sight of each room until I was sure it was going to burst in my chest and rip the pillowcase I was wearing. There were exactly one hundred and sixty-two rooms and twenty-three closets in the Malfoy Manor, each of which requiring huge amounts of cleaning and dusting every day. To make matters even more terrific, the family had an eight-year-old son who made messes almost as fast as I could clean them up. Sometimes, I worked so hard that I didn't get sleep for almost a week! It was so spectacular! Or, at least, it was spectacular for the first year or so before things became complicated.
One the fourteenth of December, a year and sixteen days since the faithful day that Master Lucius Malfoy pulled me into the Hopkirks' fireplace, I was summoned to the master bedroom by none other than Master Lucius himself. I had been cleaning the Red Room at the time, so I was able to rush there in a jiffy. When I entered, I noticed that he seemed a bit disheveled, his robes unbuttoned. I saw that the bottle of wine sitting on his bedside table, unopened when I brought it there about two hours and fourteen minutes ago, was only half-full. Mistress Narcissa and Master Draco were visiting Master and Mistress Lestrange, so I was left at the manor alone with Master Lucius. He summoned me over, saying that he was very lonely. I didn't know how to respond, and just obeyed silently like a normal, sane house-elf would. He then reached down and picked me up. I shuddered at the touch of his cold, long fingers. He brought me into his arms which grew warmer by the second. I was thoroughly shocked. House-elves are not supposed to be treated like this! Certainly not! I lay limp in his arms, not knowing how I should possibly react. However, after being held for about twelve or so minutes, I realized that the feeling was very nice. His arms had grown as warm as a hot stove preparing afternoon cocoa for Mistress Narcissa. They were as protecting as the little space under the dresser in the West Guest Bedroom where I slept. I suddenly stopped thinking about cleaning (something that is quite impossible for normal, sane house-elves) and let myself be hugged in Master Lucius' warm arms.
The next day, I found that I was only able to clean about half of what I usually clean. I was very upset with myself, but I couldn't hate myself for too long. I felt myself continuously thinking back to my encounter with Master Lucius, halting my work each time thoughts of his arms came back into my mind. Part of me was disgusted that I was sacrificing work time for playtime but part of me hungered for more warmth. I soon learned that this feeling was called love. The day after the first encounter, I thought that it would never happen again. But, that very night, Master Lucius summoned me again. I rushed straight to the bedroom. His breath smelled like the fine mead I had brought that morning. He held me in his arms all night under his soft Niffer-fur blanket. I was for merely an hour, my eyes open widely as they could be, wondering again what I should do. I ended up sitting back, relaxing, and falling asleep in the arms of my beloved: the protector who owned my soul and ruled my every move.
This ordeal continued for thirteen more nights until, at eleven forty-three PM, we were interrupted. Mistress Narcissa entered the room, back a day early from her vacation, and screamed at the sight before her sapphire eyes. She whipped out her wand and shot curse after curse at me until I fled from the room. I ran and ran through the hallways of the manor until I reached my normal sleeping spot back in the West Guest Bedroom. I huddled under the dresser, trying to sleep, but I found that I could no longer find solstice on the cold wooden floor. I took a chance and snuck up into the bed but it was still too cold. There was nowhere like the arms of Master Lucius.
The door of the West Guest Bedroom was enchanted and I was locked in there for four days. Finally, Master Lucius opened it and pointed his wand at me, saying cruelly "You seduced me into your silly desires. You put my wife and child against me. You've ruined everything." And then, he muttered some word and I found myself writhing on the floor in endless pain. Finally, it stopped. "You will continue to clean." He reached into his pocket, pulled out table scraps, and threw them harshly in my face.
I wish things had just gone back to normal, back to the days when all that mattered was a spotless floor or a dust-free attic. But now, I had tasted the forbidden fruit and tiny brain opened up to thoughts and emotion. I felt a mixture of love and hate towards my master. At one point, I hated him for torturing me so, but at another, I just wanted him to love me and hold me again. I found that I was still unable to do my work with the same speed and efficiency that I had managed before Mistress Narcissa's vacation. Every night, Master Lucius came to my bedroom and blamed me for not finishing my cleaning. Sometimes, he would use his wand. Sometimes, he would use his belt, or a cane that he soon kept in that room. However, I still wanted him to love me. I kept doing my jobs, working harder and harder, trying to keep stray thoughts and emotions as far away from me as possible. Time became of blur of working and pain.
One day, about four weeks after my first beating, I accidentally slipped on the waxed floor and fell down the grand center staircase. Master Lucius was nearby at the moment and let out carefree laughter at my demise. It was the same laugh he used back when he held me for those two weeks Mistress Narcissa was gone He told me that he wouldn't need to beat me tonight, as I was doing a fine job of hurting myself. I wanted him to laugh like that again. I wanted to avoid my punishment again. I figured that if I continued mutilating myself, he would come to love me ever the more. So I would make tiny mistakes whenever Master Lucius was around and then I began finding ways to hurt myself afterward. He would always make some sort of giggle and pat me on the head. After one year, nine months and six days of slamming my head into cabinets and sticking my toes into the fireplace and tripping over shrunken heads and throwing myself out of second story windows, I suddenly realized that this was going nowhere. I knew that there was no to get Master Lucius to love me again. I was so addicted to hurting myself that I had lost sight of my objective. I then did something that a house-elf never did. I plotted against my Master.
Well, you basically know the story from there. I visited you and tried to foil Master Lucius' plan of getting you killed using an odd book. I did everything I could to stop you from being attacked by the evil Slytherin creature that my Master spoke so highly of. However, you succeeded without my help and I felt everlasting guilt for hurting you along the way. Once, I even took out a knife and started scraping the skin off of my forearm because I felt so bad about hurting the kind boy who I hoped would be my new master. I remember the day I was freed from Master Lucius. I kept signaling to you, hoping you'd notice my pleas. You did. I remember seeing that black, sweaty sock go flying through the air. I remember putting up my hands to catch it and suddenly getting slapped with a feeling of regret. I realized that if I took that sock, I would never again have the chance of love or compassion. However, if I didn't catch the sock, I would have to endure pain and misery unlike anything that could come out of a nightmare. Before I had time to think, I felt the warm ball of soaked fabric hit my dry hands.
Since then, I've started adapting back into the life of a normal, sane house-elf. It was the life I really coveted. I still haven't completely gotten over the habit of hurting myself. Maybe some part of me thinks that if I keep hurting myself, Master Lucius will come back to me and take me into his bedroom again for those nights of warmth and love. Whenever I think of these nights with Master Lucius Malfoy came over me and I would stop stirring and peeling for a short moment. These memories would collide with the memories of his curses and beatings, forming sort of a bittersweet pudding that swam in my mind. But I was usually slapped at that moment by Winky or another elf and I got back to work, kicking that memory away, only for it to return another time. Maybe one day, I will kick off the memory and it won't return. I don't know how I would feel if that happened. I guess I'll just have to wait and see and hope.